


After the Rain

by TheLetterY



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Artist Keith (Voltron), Cliche af, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, Keith is a confused boy, Keith is in collage, Lance is a lost soul, M/M, Multi, Pinning is a must but not so soon, Supportive Keith, Supportive Lance (Voltron), broganes, minor shallura, writer lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 08:04:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13736655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLetterY/pseuds/TheLetterY
Summary: Lance, a writer who finally finds his lost inspiration in his new neighbour.Keith, an art student who can finally say that he loves drawing thanks to the writer next door.





	1. When Rain Falls

The sound of rain drops against the glass of the window, a light drizzle that cools the city from the afternoon Sun's harsh rays. It was the kind of weather that Lance loved, but unfortunately for him it doesn't help with his inspiration to write. Here he is, once one of New York's Bestselling authors, stuck with the dreaded 'writer's block' that caused him his current downcasted mood. He vaguely remembers it was time for dinner, but is too frustrated to even move from his position infront of his laptop.  


_Come up with something new_ , _come up with something that will surprise the readers_ , _your writing is too stiff_ , on and on did his editor went. Lance honestly thought his face would be forever stuck with that fake smile he normally presented to superiors. Coran was a nice guy, it was just...he asked to much of people sometimes. True that they were truths, but people needed time, a good story doesn't just show up when wanted to.  


His bestselling book: When Rain Falls, was a hit for the past few months, teenagers alike loved his book, it was a great start for his debut as a writer. Unfortunately, luck doesn't always favour just one person. His second book didn't sell as much, along with his third book. Lance was beginning to think that he was hitting rock bottom, perhaps it was because he let his first success get to his head?  


At the age of nineteen he started his career as a writer, innocent and new to the world of black and white. He knew naught of the unfairness of reality, simply doing what he loved was enough to satisfy him. He wrote to escape reality, to find a place of his own in the stories he wrote, to live in a colour-filled world, aspirations high and always dreaming big. That was how his first book became such a success, through sheer willpower and determination. A cold dose of reality was enough to reel him out of his daydream though.  


He remembers the struggle through writing his second book, there was always something missing, and the deadline only seemed to grow shorter and shorter each passing day. His third book was no better, after the failure of his second book, he couldn't seem to regain the confidence he once had when he first started out, there were too many times where he had to rewrite a whole chapter altogether, he could never seem to get a grip of those once vibrant colours that filled his mind with so much inspiration he thought he would burst if he didn't get it out. But now he only sees black and white, pages and pages of them without any trace of colour at all.  


His friends, Hunk and Pidge would try their best at helping him. They would take him out to amusment parks, the movie theatres, possibly anywhere that would help him get inspiration, but it would never help. A year after his third book he feels quite empty, the motivation is there but the spirit isn't.  


So here he was now, sitting in this old run down apartment that offered a cheap rent because the water is always cold and the pipes leaked from time to time. He has lived here ever since he moved out from his parent's place at the age of twenty, it wasn't really a bad place to live, mostly because he has been living here for two years already and has gotten use to the constant creeks and squeaks at night. _As long as I'm comfortable_ , he always tells himself because he always looks towards the bright side of things.  


Something suddenly starts brushing against his leg and he looks down to see his precious cat, Mr Blue was its name because it has the most bluest of eyes, almost as blue as his. It purrs up at him and stares at him until he sighs and finally gets up from his seat.  


"Looks like it's time to eat, Mr Blue," he says as he walks over it to head to the kitchen, Mr Blue following right behind him.  


He pulls a bowl out for it and fills it with cat food, Mr Blue eagerly starts to dig in as he goes and prepare his own dinner. Looks like it was going to be this afternoon's leftovers, half eaten fried noodles it is. Grabing himself a pair of chopsticks and a can of soda, he heads for the couch and turns the television on. Mr Blue joins him awhile later, curling up on his lap and purring as he gently strokes it. It jumps when the doorbell rings and hops off his lap as he makes a move to stand.  


"Shay?" He says in mild shock when he sees his landlord standing outside his front door. Her bangle earrings and good natured smile as welcoming as always.  


"Hello, Lance!" She greets cheerfully and waves at Mr Blue when she sees it hiding behind Lance. "If I could have a moment of your time?" She says with a smile and Lance nods as a sign for her to continue.  


"A new tenant will be moving in soon and he will be living in the apartment next to yours," she gestures towards the empty apartment beside of his. "I just thought of giving you a little heads up since you two will be neighbours soon."  


"Aw, you didn't have to go through the trouble of telling me that," he says with a smile of his own and Mr Blue seems to meow in agreement as well.  


"Because I'm afraid of you freaking out again, Lance. You're too overdramatic for your own good," she laughs and all Lance could do was laugh sheepishly along with her. "I belive he will be moving in the day after tomorrow," she says with a hum and nods in confirmation to herself.  


"Well, that will be all from me. I should really get going now. Bye Lance, Mr Blue," she waves at them as she heads down the hall. Lance watches her until she dissapears down the stairs and closes the door behind him.  


"Looks like we'll be having a new neighbour, Mr Blue," he says as he looks down at his British shorthair. It mearly blinks at him and walks away, heading back towards the couch. "I think some company is overdue," he sighs and maybe laughs to himself a little as he hums the whole of the Frozen song.  


"Do you wanna build a snowman, Mr Blue?" He grins at it and picks it up.  


It meows at him and boops its paw on his nose. 

* * *

  


A flash of red and then green and it was time to cross the road. The big black umbrella he holds to shield himself from the rain wasn't his, it was his brother's. The drumming of little water droplets against the black umbrella resounds like an echo in the small dome of the umbrella, mismatched choruses of raindrops creating a symphony of their own. Rows of shops pass by in a blur, his reflection fading in and out of shop windows as he hurries to his destination. The single strap of the bag he carries starts slipping off his shoulder and he has to stop to adjust it properly.  


It was his last semester at the art collage he was attending to and he had decided to finally move out from his brother's place, because space for his art supplies was only so limited. Shiro, his brother never agreed about the move, but he supports him anyway, they only had each other left. The packing was done, all that's left is the move.  


Keith is an artist, he draws, he paints, but he finds no joy in it. People tell him he was talented, he has honed his skills to get to a level of high praise, but there was always something missing. The art collage he goes to, his instructor, Kolivan tells him he has promise, a talent, but it won't be enough. Countless of nights he finds himself staring at his blank ceiling and pondering about the missing puzzle pieces to his work. He uses colours, a variety of them, but they don't mean much to him, they were simply textbook based.  


Kolivan would show him pieces, pieces that would always blow his mind. He would tell Keith to find the differences between his piece and the other's. Keith always guesses wrongly though, and Kolivan would never tell him the answer.  


He vaguely remembers a time where he enjoyed drawing and painting, a time where he had nothing but his father and the little shack they lived in, even then there was always something missing. Now he has Shiro, but that doesn't really change anything. He was begining to think that maybe art wasn't his thing.  


And then there was the art folio for his year end assesment...  


He makes his way into the lobby of the apartment that he and Shiro share, closing the umbrella and raising a hand in greeting to Matt, their neighbour and one of Shiro's friends. He enters the elevator and reaches the fifth floor, heading towards their apartment and taking out the keys to open the door.  


"Shiro, I'm back," he calls as he places the umbrella in the umbrella stand and kicks his shoes aside.  


"Keith," he looks up to be greeted with someone else instead. Allura, Shiro's girlfriend and a successful writer who has sold over a million copies of her book in a matter of a few days. Keith liked her books, they were unique in a way that showed her personality through her writing. She was an admirable person.  


"Oh..." he says cause he didn't know what else to say. He could ask where Shiro was. "Where's Shiro?"  


Allura looks amused, she smiles at him and tilts her head towards the front door. "Went out to fetch some dinner for us," she says and Keith nods at her before adjusting his bag's strap and heading straight for his room, only pausing when Allura calls out to him.  


He raises an eyebrow at her for her to continue.  


"You seem...troubled," she says, Keith gives her a look. "Is it about your classes?" She questions and he lets out a long and suffering sigh. It's scary how well she could read people, but it was funnier when she did it to Shiro, not so much when it was him.  


"No," he says and retreats to his room to dump his bag by the doorway and come back out. He retrieves a can of soda from the fridge and plops down on the love seat opposite from Allura. It was her turn to give him a look when he places his feet on the coffee table and pops open the can of soda.  


"Can I help you?" He questions when he notices her stare.  


"Doesn't Shiro hate it when you place your feet up on the table?" She replies, a brow raised pointedly at his feet.  


"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," Keith says with a careless wave to his hand and takes a sip from the can. Allura shakes her head at him, then perking up when she remembered something. She rummages in her bag for awhile before pulling out a book, Keith leans in, curious.  


Allura grins, sliding the book over to him as he removes his feet from the table and places the soda can down to study the paperback. The title of the book, 'When Rain Falls' is engraved on the cover in big black letters, a drawing of a red umbrella occupying the rest of the book cover's space. He feels the smooth surface of the hardcover, his fingers moving over the engraved title as he slowly picks it up to further inspect it.  


Allura always recommends books to them, novels that she finds entertaining to read and sometimes letting Shiro and him read her manuscripts before she passed it up to her editor. But she seemed quite excited for this one, he notes as he located the author's name.  


"Mr Blue?" He reads out loud with a raised brow in question. Allura nods and leans in as if to tell him a secret.  


"He's a friend of mine. He used this pen name when he first started out," she points to the paperback in his hands. "That's his first book, it was a huge success in the market for a few months. Unfortunately, his following two books weren't as good, he has been in a dilemma since," she tells him, her smile weak as she ached for her friend. Keith frowns at the book, flipping through the pages and then closing it shut, the lingering smell of paper waffling through his nose.  


"I'll read it," he tells her and she smiles greatfully.  


"I'm back," Shiro calls as he enters the apartment, a few plastic bags in his grasp. Dinner, Keith thinks as he eyes the bags and stands up to help his brother. 

* * *

  


Keith stares at the variety of chips presented in front of him, his focus jumping back and forth between the sour cream and onion chips and honey butter chips. Shiro liked honey butter, but Keith preferred sour cream and onion he was told to only buy one bag of chips though, and they only had one bag of sour cream and onion left. He sighs, maybe the sour cream and onion would do, since it was the remaining one and all.  


He makes a move to reach for it, his fingers already brushing it, only pausing when he notices another hand reaching out for it as well. He glances up to see a man, lean and tall, wearing a brown hoddie jacket over what seems to be a white shirt underneath. He looked to be about the same age as Keith, having the bluest of eyes Keith has ever seen, they remind him of the ocean, big, blue and vast. The man seems to be taking his time staring at Keith too, the silence stretching on until the man clears his throat.  


"I'm sorry, but I'm taking this. If you don't mind," he says and holds on to the bag of chips defensively. For some reason, something in the way he said it sparked something in Keith, he didn't know what, but he did know that this guy was in the wrong somewhere.  


"I think you're mistaken. I was clearly here first," Keith says and grabs at the bag of chips as well.  


"I didn't want to be rude, but you're making this really hard for me, stranger. If you mean by being here first as in standing around and having a staring contest with the chips then sure, rule with your logic, but Imma follow my own rules," he says with a forced kind tone. "I think that mullet of yours is affecting the way you're thinking," he continues and tugs at the chips.  


"You're generally an idiot if you think that hair can affect a person's thinking," Keith growls and tugs harder on the chips.  


"Hands off, Mullet! There are other fishes out in the sea!" The man tugs it his way.  


"Then why don't you go catch some? I'd like to stick with _my_ first catch if you don't mind," Keith tugs back at it, using both his hands for a better grip.  


"I do mind! Since you were _clearly_ staring at another fish just now!" The man starts using his other hand to tug as well.  


"Having multiple choices in life is a given, and it helps stimulate brain cells to move when your thinking hard about something. Not like I expect you to know, since you don't look like you use your brain much!" He tugs at the bag with a stronger force, startling the man and only managing to anger him more.  


"Just eat the other flavoured chips you stubborn mule!" The man tugs with as equal much force as Keith, gritting his teeth and holding his ground.  


The tugging strains the packet of chips, eventually causing a small rip that leads to a bigger one that spills the contents of the bag. Both of them fall and land on their backs, one groaning in pain while the other stares at the mess of chips littering the floor in a mass of rage. The speaker sounds, and there is a guy asking for a clean up at aisle ten, where they were both at.  


Keith huffs, stands to his full height and grabs the honey butter flavoured chips, grumbling 'waste of my time' while he digs out some bills from him wallet and shoves them to the standing man. He looks at Keith incredulously and Keith couldn't help but harden his glare as he stuffs it in the visible pockets on the man's hoddie and storms of to retrieve the other groceries. What the hell was that guy's problem anyway?  


Keith scowls angrily as he tosses in whatever groceries Shiro had written down for him to buy. He had no time to be fuming over stupid things, Keith was a man of pride, and no little thing like losing a bag of chips would affect him this much. But it did, and he had tomorrows move to worry about as well! 

* * *

  


Boxes, mountains of them piled up in the small hallway that leads to Lance's apartment. The boxes are all labelled specifically, going from easels to brushes and palettes to spray paint. His new neighbour was definitely an artist, or at least aspiring to be one. He side steps a few of the boxes, going over some of them and squeezing past a few to find his neighbour and greet him. It was too bad that they live on the fifth floor and the elevator was down for repairs, this guy seemed to have a lot things, Lance wonders if he should help him.  


While stepping over some remaining boxes, he sees a large figure standing by the front door, the man's back faced towards him. Lance braces himself for some socializing and goes up to the man. He thinks the guy was about half a head taller than him, almost about six feet tall with an impressive amount of muscles hidden underneath the long sleeved white shirt he is wearing. He didn't really look like the artistic type, Lance thinks as he eyes him warily.  


"Um, hey," he starts off and the guy turns to face him, an eyebrow raised in question. Lance notices the different colour of the guy's bangs and presses his lips shut to keep himself from asking about it.  


"Can I help you?" The guy questions and Lance can't help but feel intimidated.  


"I'm the neighbour?" He says like it was suppose to explain everything yet at the same time sounding unsure and slightly confused.  


The man's eyes widen and it was like a one eighty degree change in his personality that Lance had to do a double take to confirm if it was the same guy he was just talking too a few seconds ago.  


"Oh, I'm so sorry for my rudeness earlier. Did I offend you in any way just now?" He asks, eyebrows up in worry and Lance wanted to laugh at the sudden change in atmosphere. The guy doesn't look like a push over, but his personality suggests otherwise.  


"No, no, I think it was my fault for being too direct," Lance says, finally managing a smile. "You sure have a lot of stuff don't you?" He continues just for small talk.  


The guy then looks at Lance like he has just realized something, then he laughs. "I think you're mistaken. These aren't my stuff, they're my brother's," he says, a crooked smile in place.  


"Oh, I see. Well, I look forward to meeting your brother...sir?"  


"Takashi,Takashi Shirogane, but Shiro is fine. Nice to meet you," he says with an outstretched hand and Lance gives himself a pat on the back for succeeding at the good first impression thing.  


"I'm Lance McClain. Nice to meet you too, Shiro," he says and shakes his hand firmly. "So...where is this brother of yours?"  


"I'm actually not quite sure myself. He did say he would be held up in class, but who knows how long that might be. He's suppose to meet me here," Shiro says with shrugging shoulders, that motion causing Lance to glimpse at his arm, Shiro's prosthetic arm that is. He forces his eyes away, not wanting to pry into the man's life and so that the conversation could remain at its current atmosphere, but Shiro notices anyway.  


"Curious?" Shiro questions, a smirk and a raised eyebrow directed at him and Lance flushes from being caught.  


"N-no! I wouldn't-I didn't- I wasn't staring..." he says guiltily and coughs into his fist. When the hell was his neighbour going to come back from wherever he was anyway? "So, Shiro! Tell me a little about your brother. I mean, I'm going to have be neighbours with him, right? Might as well get someone's point of view on him," he says with nervous laughter.  


Shiro simply gives him a look, then furrows his eyebrows as if in deep thought. "Well, his name is Keith and...um, he's a little hard to understand... Oh, but I can assure you that he is actually really, uh, nice? I'm sorry, my brother is a _really_ complicated person, so bare with him would you?"  


This time Lance gives him a look, then slowly nods his head to assure the man, cause he looked absolutely panicked right now and Lance wonders what his brother was really like. To even get his older brother to worry over a thing such as his younger brother's personality, how curious. Lance had many siblings, him being the youngest of them all, and all his brothers and sisters were nice people, albeit the small disagreements here and there.  


"Sure," Lance says. "I mean, how bad can he be?" He laughs to lighten up the mood, but Shiro does't look that all convinced. Lance doesn't know why, he was good with people and they loved him, _but not his writing_ , he mentally cringes at the negative thought. _But_ , but, Lance was pretty sure he could get along with anyone, except the guy at the convenience store...who is actually walking up behind Shiro.  


"Oh, hell no," he says out loud, he doesn't care if Shiro gives him a look though, he just wants to make sure. "Mullet McMullet Man!" He practically yells in shock and horror and said person narrows his eyes at him, an aura of absolute hatred directed towards Lance.  


" _You_ ," Lance could hear the growl in that and forces himself not to shudder. "What are _you_ doing here?" He questions and Lance couldn't help but scoff.  


"I live here?" He says, this time narrowing his own eyes. "And why are _you_ here?"  


"I live here..." he says and Lance swears he could be dreaming right now. This was just too much of a coincidence! What sick person thought that this was going to be funny is just sad! Lance is already sad and now he's pissed, annoyed, confussed and _sad_.  


"Maybe you got the wrong address," he says quickly and both he and Shiro look at him like he's got two heads. "You two must be lost, or maybe just you Mullet Man," he looks towards Shiro. "Please don't tell me he's your brother," he practically pleads, cause the universe was being unusually cruel to him.  


"Lance? Are you okay-" he cuts Shiro off as he starts pacing around, Mullet Man, or Keith, as Shiro mentioned earlier staring at him with an unreadable expression.  


"Maybe it's the lack of sleep. Yeah, it has to be," now he's rambling to himself, words coming out all at once in utter gibberish to Shiro and Keith. "I need to lay down. Is it the caffeine that's making me this active? Oh gosh...you know what? I'll-I'll see you guys later, yeah?" He tells them and dashes home, jumping over boxes and squeezing his way through with such speed that it would put a professional athlete to shame. Then he slams his door shut and groans into his hands. Great, he just made a scene infront of his neighbour and his brother.  


He glances at the clock and it was only four twenty. How lovely, he had half a day left. 

* * *

  


By nine thirty, Keith gives up on unpacking, because most of the furniture has not arrived yet and he was hungry. He sighs when another text message from Shiro pops up on his phone, telling to check on his neighbour, Lance was his name from what he has heard from Shiro. Today was a bad day for Keith, first he had a disagreement with Kolivan and now he has to deal with his neighbour, who so happens to also be the one who wanted to steal his chips from yesterday, not to mention the endless pile of things he has yet to unpack.  


Keith sighs, he has been doing that a lot today, sighing. A nagging superstition that his mother once told him creeps into his mind, ' _don't sigh so much_ ,' she would say. ' _You'll die younger_!' And four year old Keith would only pout in response while his mother would laugh and ruffle his already messy hair. Keith blinks away the memory, thinking of his mother never seemed to make him anymore happier, just more confussed and slightly angry.  


He finishes up with whatever he had left of the box and heads out for dinner, locking the door on the way out. He pauses at his neighbour's door, the text Shiro sent him and this afternoon's encounter with his supposed neighbour nagging him at the back of his head as he half glares at the door in ponderment. Then he sighs yet again and walks past the door, heading down the stairs and going past the broken elevator.  


Convenience store food it is. 

* * *

  


It is eight fourteen in the morning, a lovely Saturday morning, the time when Lance goes to get his mail. His morning routine goes as per usual, washing up, breakfast and strong coffee, cause he had yet another sleepless night. Sometimes in the middle of the day, he would find himself passed out on his couch with dried drool stuck to the side of his mouth, Mr Blue cuddling up by his side. That was how tired he was sometimes, sleep seemed like it was so out of reach.  


Wearing sweats and a simple white tee, he grabs a jacket that was draped on the couch and opens the door, keys in hand. Mr Blue suddenly runs out the door and Lance calls out to it in mild shock, he leaves the door ajar and moves to follow it, pausing in his advances when he catches Mr Blue snuggling up to Keith's leg. He watches in amusement as Keith goes rigid, then his expression softens and it's like looking at a different Keith when he kneels down to pet Mr Blue, the cat purring in satisfaction.  


"Hey there lil guy," he hears Keith say to Mr Blue as it meows in reply, stretching its neck and rubbing against Keith. Lance watches him closely, studying the man who is currently his neighbour and who was once the man who couldn't make his mind up about chip flavours and _had_ to create a scene with Lance. This man infront of him now is different form the neighbour he met yesterday, different from the man he argued with at the grocery store, he looks more unguarded and relaxed.  


Keith picks the cat up, Mr Blue not even struggling from the stranger's hold. It then twists out of the hold and drops down to stare up at Lance.  


Then Keith looks up at Lance and Lance thinks that whatever he had just witness just now was only an illusion, cause his expression immediatly becomes guarded again. They stare at each other for a few seconds, Lance counting the times he blinks. Keith breaks the eye contact first and stands to his full height, which isn't really that impressive considering that Lance is slightly taller than him.  


"It's name is Mr Blue...if you're wondering," he tells him and Keith gives him a confused look.  


"I wasn't," Keith says as he turns his gaze to the cat staring innocently up at him. "Its a girl by the way," he frowns up at Lance.  


Lance takes awhile to register his words, then he snaps his head towards Mr Blue at a frightening speed, surprised that he didn't get a whiplash.  


"You're a girl?!" He says in shock as said feline simply stares back up at him. Then he frowns and glares at the man, a sudden thought invading his mind. "Thanks for telling me and all, but you don't have to show off," he grumbles and bends down to pick his cat up, his neighbour scowling at him the whole time.  


He scoffs and Lance turns back to see him storm off the other direction, where the stairs are located. Well good riddance, he thinks as he places Mr Blue back into the apartment and locks the door, heading down the stairs that was opposite from where Keith went.  


The building was old, old enough that it looked to be more than fourty years, but Lance knew better than that, it was only thirty-seven years old, from what Shay has told him. The elevator was what the tenants tend to look out for, cause it creaks and shakes and sometimes people get stuck inside. It was constantly under repairs that some tenants have even given up on it and decided for a healthier lifestyle by using the fire escape. There were two flights of the fire escape on each end of the building, Lance would sometimes find himself sitting on the metal stairs during cold nights just to stare down at the nights' bustling city with a mug of hot chocolate in his hand.  


Each floor on the building had four apartments, and unluckily for him, he gets Keith as his next door neighbour. The mail boxes were located downstairs, small metalic boxes lined up in neat rows of numbers and compartments, and that was exactly where Lance wanted to go.  


Sorting through the mail gave him a headache, mostly because his mail consisted of the usual bills and the occasional fan mail, fan mail that also included hate mail. He puts the hate mail through paper shredders so he doesn't have to look at them, the fan mail he keeps for motivation. Sorting through mail may be troublesome, but it keeps him busy, and busy meant not worrying over stupid writer's block.  


He goes through the mail one by one, not throughly looking at the contents but shifting through them to get the gist of it. He only pauses when he sees a letter that wasn't his, a letter that _clearly_ states that it was _Keith Kogane's_ letter, the number printed on it also clearly stating his address. Lance wonders how much of a coincidence this whole ordeal is yet again.  


Just one big fucking coincidence. 

* * *

  


"Mr Blue..." Keith mutters to himself in the middle of class, a few books and small stacks of paper piled up neatly beside him. He sighs through his nose and looks up front to their lecturer in business, Ulaz having them go through several tough topics for their up coming examination.  


He discreetly scans the room, already finding a few students sleeping and yawning. Then his eyes fall on the stack of books that occupaid most of his writing space, squinting suspiciously at the novel Allura had lent him. Something clicks as he quickly pulls the book out from the stack, his eyes wide as he spots the author's name ingraved neatly on the side of the book: Mr Blue.  


"What the fuck?" He actually says out loud, the whole room's attention faced at him. Ulaz had questioned if anything was wrong or if he didn't understand shareholdings, but he ignores him. His focus is solely directed at the neatly engraved words, repeatedly running through his mind like it was high on something.  


"Allura's a witch," he mutters to himself as Ulaz questions him once more if he was really okay or not.  


Maybe it was darn time he started reading this book. 

* * *

  


"Your neighbour sounds like a blast," Pidge says from her seat across from Lance, a lazy grin in place as she cradles her ice cream soda on hand. Hunk is in between the both of them, giving Pidge a look as she loudly sips on her soda.  


Lance stares at Hunk, waiting for his reaction to Lance's story about his neighbour. Hunk seems to consider for awhile, even crossing his arms in contemplation. Then he looks at Lance, looking as if he wants to laugh.  


"Dude," he exclaims with a smile. "Is it just me, or is this just too much of a coincidence?" He says, laughing a little at Lance's spiteful expression.  


"I _know_ right?" Lance exclaims himself, having just downed a whole cup of espresso and already ordering himself a second cup. "And then guess what? He goes and show off that he knows about cats more than I do! Me! The one who owns one, NOT him!" He grits out and Hunk and Pidge exchange looks, both seeming to find this hilariously endearing.  


Lance loved his friends, it's just that they drive him insane sometimes, he thought that it was his job to annoy them, not the other way around. Their little trio had started out during sophomore year in high school, the trio still sticking close together considering the close relationship they had with one another. Lance insisted they kept in contact, because friendship and bonds mattered to him.  


Lance and Hunk were childhood friends, Pidge joining in during high school through an explosive chemistry class, and Lance meant that literally. They started hanging out since, Pidge liked the crazy pranks Lance always manages to conjure up, while Hunk was there to make sure none of them would do anything stupid like getting arrested...again. The epic food fight in the cafeteria wasn't Lance and Pidge's doing though, it was Hunk's, albeit only starting it up accidentally.  


"So Lance," Pidge starts, sipping on her soda. "What does he know about Mr Blue that you don't?" She says with a smile equivalent to Cheshire cat.  


Lance huffs and crosses his arms, a pout on his face. "He said Mr Blue was a girl."  


Pidge laughs so hard that ice cream soda starts coming out of her nose while Hunk is holding back laughter, his face so red Lance was afraid he would faint.  


"Someone finally told him," Pidge says in between gasps and Hunk bursts out laughing as well, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as he doubles over in laughter. Lance rolls his eyes at the both of them, finding it too tiresome to even argue with them anymore.  


The waiter comes with his second cup of espresso and he gives Lance a look that suggests curiousity to his friends behaviour and Lance simply waves him off, making a mental note to tip him for not asking questions. 

* * *

  


The book was engrossing, Keith finds himself thinking that half way through it. He had to be pulled away from it thrice from a few classmate of his that were trying to get his attention. The writing was filled with passion, the characters were likable and the story was filled with raw innocence. Keith never liked reading romance before, the characters were always either to frustrating or too overbearing, storyline mostly recycled and reused more times than he could count.  


This story was pure though, a few too many puns, but still pure. He finds himself already halfway through the book by the time half the the day was gone. A sudden urge to pick up a pen or a pencil or even charcoal itching at his finger tips, he finds himself aching to draw for no god damn reason at all. He could imagine it if he closed his eyes, a rainy day, sunlight just shy of peeking through the clouds, a lone dock with an ocean so wide and blue it could stretch on for eons and the peaceful surface of the ocean having been disturbed by invading drops of rain in the form of ripples.  


That was exactly what he drew and painted during free period and presented to Kolivan when classes were over. Kolivan had given him a surprised look, Keith had only shrugged and told him it was inspired by something, leading Kolivan to actually _smile_. He told Keith that this was exactly what he was missing all along and Keith could only give him a deadpanned stare, he had no idea what Kolivan was talking about, not at all.  


He finds himself still reading the book when he enters the recently fixed elevator, never really paying attention when someone yelled at him to hold it open.  


"Gee, thanks a lot Keith. I rather not have 'death by elevator doors' written on my gravestone please," Lance grumbles once he made it through the elevator doors unscathed.  


"Mm..." he replies, uninterested as Lance stares at him, the book more specifically.  


"Hey...isn't that--" Keith drops the book from sudden realization, Lance moving to pick it up as Keith watches him. Lance gives a pained smile at the book, passing it back to Keith and stuffing his hands in his pockets, watching him. "What do you think of it so far?"  


Keith blanks out for a second, avoiding his gaze from Lance and keeping it locked on the book.  


"I like it," he says softly and watches Lance's shoulders sag in relief.  


The rest of the elevator ride passes in silence. 

* * *

  


Lance didn't know what Keith's problem was, he just wanted to listen to his Beyoncé in peace. Keith had came knocking (banging) on his door in a fit of fury, now standing by his front door with his arms crossed and Lance is just frustrated about getting interrupted when he was doing work, but it's not like he was getting anywhere with his writing though...  


"Can you _please_ \--and I stress this word-- _please_ lower down the volume of your god damn stereo or whatever device that is playing your music so that I can study in piece?" Keith exclaims tiredly, rubbing his temples roughly and looking up at Lance through his long (are men's eyelashes suppose to be that long?) eyelashes.  


Keith has bags under his eyes, Lance notices. Lance too, unfortunately, so he could probably relate to Keith's problem, maybe.  


"And I'm trying to work, the music helps me work. Let me drown all my worries in Beyoncé if you would please," Lance says pointedly and Keith scowls. He hadn't even started with writing chapter one at all, let alone the summary. He was in a serious bind here and his neighbour's little complaint isn't really helping, not at all.  


Keith raises an eyebrow at him, then he smirks, a smirk that throws Lance off completely. "Having trouble writing, Mr Blue?"  


"Sh-shut up!" Lance defends, baffled at the sudden tease. Mr Blue (that traitor) chooses the right moment to peer from behind Lance's legs and meow in delight at the sight of Keith.  


"Your cat is really affectionate isn't it?" Keith murmurs as it rubs against his leg, Lance staring at it with a startled yet disbelieving gaze.  


"What are you talking about? Its mad at you for disturbing its Beyoncé as well," Lance huffs out in exasperation, watching as Mr Blue actually starts to purr in affection, he glares at the little back stabber.  


"Looks like its on my side," Keith says with an ever growing smirk as Lance narrows his eyes at him.  


"You have no idea what you have just done," he whispers treatheningly and Keith raises a brow at him, smirk dropping. "No one messes with my Beyoncé."  


"What does that even--" Keith starts to say but gets cut off by Lance's obnoxious shushing.  


"I'm still talking," he says, pointer finger held up to silence his annoyed yet confused neighbour. "This means war, _Keith_ ," he seethes and tries closing the door ominously, but fails when he realizes that Mr Blue was still outside and has to reopen the door to usher it in. 

* * *

  


Keith is bewildered when he opens the door to see Lance, looking as if he would be anywhere but here right now.  


"Come again?" He questions, because it was not like he wasn't paying attention the first time, or the fact that he was distracted by the sudden appearance of a lightly dressed Lance with messey bed head.  


"Sugar," he says with crossed arms, Keith doesn't know why his eyes follow that motion. "I'm out of sugar and I'm asking if you have any," Lance raises a skilfully trimed brow at him.  


"Sugar," Keith repeats like it was the most dumbest thing ever.  


Lance huffs, puts a right hand on his hip as if he were ready to sass and levels down at Keith. The height difference between them has never been so irritatingly dissatisfying. Keith narrows his eyes in slight warning.  


"You do _not_ want to make me spell it out for you," Lance exclaims.  


"Try me. You woke me up on a none schooling day, Lance. How do you think that makes me feel?" Keith glowers and Lance makes a show of taking his words into consideration.  


"S," he starts and Keith glares. "U. G--"  


"Don't take me so literally!" Keith huffs and Lance tilts his head at him.  


"S'not my fault. You are seriously too direct man, loosen up!" Lance exclaims and pats him encouragingly on both his shoulders.  


Keith rolls his eyes, retreats into his apartment and returns with a mug of sugar for Lance. Lance stares at the mug for a few seconds, Keith waiting for a response with an impatient frown. Then he sends Keith the brightest of smiles and all Keith could do was stare, suddenly feeling very light.  


His fingers ached to draw. 

* * *

Keith couldn't believe what he was hearing. He stares at Kolivan in disbelief, the man himself looking as stoic as ever. Then he raises a pointed brow and Keith couldn't take it anymore.  


"You did what now?!" He practically screams in his instructors face, his fist clenching tightly by his side. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, tired purple rings on the underside of his eyes in indication of staying up late.  


"I submitted your piece for the upcoming art exhibition," he says calmly and arches an eyebrow at Keith when he sags in his seat, looking defeated. "Is something the matter?"  


"You didn't put it under my name...did you?" He questions, cautious yet at the sametime hesitant.  


"Of course I put it under you your name. It was yours to begin with," Kolivan answers him, mildly confused.  


"But, _why_?"  


Keith doesn't get a reply, Kolivan is only staring at him, staring at him like how always studies a painting.  


"You ask me 'why'?" He starts and Keith can't help but feel inferior, Kolivan's expression is absolutely unreadable. "Then, Keith. Let me ask you _why_ you painted the piece."  


Keith goes silent, he doesn't know what to say, he is still mad, but maybe not directly at Kolivan anymore. The answer to Kolivan's question was as clear as day, the answer as to why he painted that piece and the many others that accompanied it. He couldn't believe it himself when he started mixing colours and letting the brush roam free on the canvas, like he was in a trance.  


"I just--" he starts but stops himself immediatly once he realizes how foolish he would have sounded. "I was just inspired by this book..." he says, gaze downcasted as he lets out a loud sigh.  


"So I've heard," Kolivan says, leaning back against his seat, almost like a message directed at him saying 'cut the bullshit'. "Do elaborate," he waves his hand in a gesturing motion.  


Keith scowls, because elaborating something like this was just plain embarrassing, not to mention how bad he was at expressing things through words. 'Inspired' could mean so many things, yet at the sametime very specific things. The inspiration to draw something and write something, it's the initiative to create something. That was what it had always been to Keith, and it will always remain.  


'Expressing' though, people have many ways of expressing themselves, Keith's was through his drawings and paintings. Not many people understand them though, and that leaves him in a bind of trying to explain it to them, like now for example.  


"Elaborate?" He finds himself close to scoffing, choosing wisely not to aim a glare in his instructor's direction. "I don't know...I just- I wanted to draw the ocean when I read that book, I had no other objective..." he says with finality, the urge to suddenly run through Kolivan's tall glass windows and scream 'freedom!!!' sounding very tempting at that moment.  


The sudden silence that passes through them was chilling, Keith didn't think he offended Kolivan in anyway, didn't know why he was so quiet now.  


"How's you're folio coming along?" He questions, totally out of the topic and Keith finds himself wondering 'why' again.  


"Um..." Keith says, cause he thought it was best not to say anything else at that moment. He simply reaches into his bag and pulls out the neatly bounded stack of papers, he didn't want to place them in a file just yet. Kolivan looks through them one by one, expression never changing and only nodding to himself a few times. He returns them to Keith and dismisses him. Keith had never been so glad to leave Kolivan's office at all. 

* * *

  


Lance was surprised when Allura, a co-worker of his gave him a ticket to an art exhibition. He wasn't really one for art though, the sudden memory of grade school filters through his mind, the large 'F' written on his messy drawing of simple stick figures featuring his family.  


Allura had told him that the venue was located at a local art collage, the art works mainly featuring the students' art work. Lance, still on his 'writer's block' and itching to get out and about decided ' _why the hell not_ '. Besides, Allura also mentioned that it was for charity. So here he was now.  


The venue was big and really crowded, luckily the hall was big enough to squeeze everyone in. Lance could tell that the students really put their everything into this art exhibition, he guessed people really like art...or maybe because it was for the free gift bags they were handing out, charity my ass. Unfortunately for him, finding people he knew proved harder than expected, one minute he thought that person with the large figure and yellow headband was Hunk, and the next was that person with the luciously long white hair was Allura, they both weren't them by the the way.  


Lance feels himself deflating of energy not too long later, simply letting the crowd lead him to whatever section of the hall suited their taste. Most people left early though, Lance thinks those were just the people who came for the gift bags. It was not as crowded by the time lunch time rolled around, Lance finds himself still mindlessly strolling through pieces and pieces of art that could never seem to make sense to him.  


He had several missed calls on his phone, most of them from Hunk and Pidge and the rest from Allura. He had tried calling back, but his phone had died on him halfway through dialling. Lance never liked being alone, that was partly the reason why he kept Mr Blue, but situations like these made him uncomfortable the most.  


He remembers writing about a scene like this before, the protagonist alone in a crowded place, filled with unknown faces and a sense of uncertainty as she trudges along in an unfamiliar place. Lance felt like that right now, uncertainty poking at him in the gut and making him slightly nauseous. He hated that feeling, the feeling of uselessness.  


Something catches his attention from the corner of his eye, a painting of the ocean, a lone dock with sunlight highlighting the blue waters with ripples occupying the surface, having been created by the falling raindrops. _This was it_ , he finds himself thinking as his eyes roamed the painting, taking in every inch of detail put into the picture.  


He loves this painting, he absolutely loves it. It reminded him of who he once was, a boy who loved to write, to express himself through the art of writing, to share them with the people around him. It reminded him of his very first book. He reaches out for it, pausing when he realizes how foolish he must look reaching out for a painting. He retracts his hand and stuffs them in his hoddie pockets.  


A description below the painting finally caught his eye. His body goes completely ridget when he sees the name _Keith Kogane_ written neatly in bold text, below his name was a description saying that he was inspired to paint this from a book, a book titled 'When Rain Falls'.  


Something in him stirs, a feeling of sudden optimism yet at the same time giddiness? There was something else though, something he couldn't quite name.  


"Lance! Dude, where were you? We were like, looking all over the place," Hunk, Lance nimbly notes, calls from behind as he runs up to him.  


"Yeah, Lance. What's the point of phones if they're not used for contacting people?" Pidge frowns in his direction, stuffing her hands in her oversized hoddie jacket.  


"Phone died," he replies simply, eyes still glued to the painting. Such detail!  


"Lance? Are you even-- Oh hey, nice painting," Pidge says, closing up to the art work.  


"Keith Kogane," Hunk reads as a look of understanding crosses his features. "Keith? As in that neighbour of yours?" He exclaims as Pidge narrows her eyes.  


"It's Keith alright. He used to be this edgy emo dude my brother was neighbours with. I didn't really know what happened to him until recently," Pidge says, her tone inquisitive as she gives Lance a look. "Lance? You okay?"  


Lance snaps his head towards her direction. "I-I'm fine. Did you see him around by any chance?" He quiries, trying to hide his eagerness.  


"Who?" Hunk voices, looking at Pidge for an explanation.  


"Keith," Pidge says, her eyes narrowing in slight suspicion. "Shiro, his brother said he wasn't coming."  


Somehow, Lance felt disappointed.  


"I see," he says, clasping his hands behind his back. "All's good, all's good," he laughs nervously.  


"Got somewhere to go, Lance?" Pidge smirks and Hunk sends him a confused look.  


"Go? I...don't have anywhere to go. What are you talking about, Pidge?" Lance replies as Pidge gives him a suspicious glare.  


"You can go if you need to be somewhere Lance, no need to worry about us," Hunk tells him and Pidge nods in agreement. "We'll just go find Allura and Shiro after this."  


"Wha-? I don't need to be any--"  


"Ugh! Just _go_ you dingus!" Pidge scowls and Lance shoots them finger guns before heading straight for the exit.  


"What was that all about?" Hunk questions as Pidge turns to him.  


"Oh Hunk, it's really no different from you and Shay's predicament."  


"Hush Pidge, she had plans today, okay?" Hunk grumbles as Pidge simply grins up at him goofily. 

* * *

  


Keith hadn't gone to the art exhibition. It was not like he wasn't interested, it was just that he didn't _want_ to go. Staying at home and painting all day is what he would rather do anyway. He wasn't a visualizer, he wasn't good at projecting images from his head, images that he thinks people won't like. That was mainly the reason why he was absent from the art show, the other reason being that Shiro mentioned something about Lance going as well.  


He had let himself loose the past few hours, drawing and painting and sketching without rest. He thinks he has forgotten to get himself breakfast and lunch, he doesn't think much about it though, as it was already nearing five o'clock. He is only just letting time past now, just laying around with scattered drawings surrounding him, scattered because a big gust of wind blew in from his unclosed window. He had been staring at nothing but the ceiling for the past half an hour, wondering why his latest pieces weren't as complete as that painting.  


Perhaps he had found his missing puzzle piece without even knowing it, maybe he lost it again right after. Whatever the reason though, it was giving him a serious headache. The colours don't make sense anymore.  


There was a recent sketch he did, it laid near his right hand, finger tips touching yet at the same time not. His hand twitches when a light breeze blows in from his window, slightly lifting the paper up and brushing gently against the tip of of middle finger. He sits up slowly, turning to the loose paper to pick it up. Skin and paper meet as he lightly brushes over the paper, feeling the smooth pencil lead against the rough surface of the paper.  


It was a rough sketch, a sketch of his mother, a sketch from his memory. He wasn't certain if the drawing was accurate or not, his mother's soft smiles and loving gazes seem like such a far away memory that sometimes he questions if his brain was playing tricks on him. There was a time in middle school where he kept a drawing book full with sketches of her, that book eventually got thrown away during one of his angry tantrums. He normally gets the most angry whenever his mother was brought up. He regrets his actions dearly, even looking through several trashcans but still coming up empty.  


He doesn't have pictures of his mother, she wasn't really the type to pose prettily in front of the camera. She was adventurous, loving to travel and take pictures of the amazing sights she had seen. His mother loved the thrill so much that she sometimes even forget those around her, including her only son. 

* * *

  


Lance is unsure what to do once he was infront of Keith's door. Perhaps he was being a little too straight-forward? I mean knocking on his neighbour's door and telling him that he absolutely loved his painting? That was fine, but what about _after_ he says that? Then what?  


After calming himself down and posing to knock on his neighbour's door, he chickens out at the very last second and sighs deeply.  


_Maybe this wasn't such a good idea_ , he thinks to himself and turns to retreat to his apartment when Keith's front door flies open. Lance could only stare at him in disbelief, eyes wide and mouth agape, basically looking like an idiot infront of Keith. Keith on the other hand with his leather gloves and high collared jacket with a black shirt underneath could only stare at him in question, basically looking good even with messy hair that looks as if it hasn't been combed. Then Keith is raising an eyebrow at Lance and Lance loses the ability to talk.  


"Lance?" He questions as he adjusts the grip on the bike helmet that Lance just noticed. "Why are you standing infront of my door?"  


"I...am _not_ , okay? I just happened to pass by when you opened the door," he tell him instead of the truth.  


Keith frowns at him, then turns on his heels to leave as Lance scolds himself for letting his tongue run loose. Keith is almost halfway to the elevator when Lance calls out to him, making him pause in his advances, waiting.  


"I just--" he starts, huffing out a frustrated breath and scratching the back of his neck, suddenly feeling very bashful. "Thanks...for the painting, really," he says, staring straight at Keith's back to gauge a reaction out of him.  


But then Keith is turning towards him, lips pursed and head low as if in thought. Lance can't read his expression with the way his hair covers his eyes, instead he just waits.  


"Do you want to go for a ride?" He questions unexpectedly, looking so sure of himself that Lance can't help but feel overwhelmed.  


He should say no, he was a busy man after all. Biking wasn't really his thing either.  


"Sure," he says and can't help the flutter in his chest when Keith gives him that enormous grin. 

* * *

  


Keith doesn't know what made him offer Lance the ride, doesn't know why he finds it amusing to see Lance so in awe of his red motorcycle. He had gotten the bike for himself a few years back, sometimes spending his free time tending to it or riding it when drawing became too suffocating. Shiro had taken one look at the bike and had called it a 'death trap', hiding none too subtly about his disapprovement towards the vehicle. It was actually a nice improvement to see someone so fascinated by his bike.  


"I call it Red," he says and Lance finally prys his eyes away from it to stare at Keith.  


"Red?" He questions in that judging tone of his, arms crossed and face set in a pointed look.  


"I don't think you have the rights to question my naming choices, Mr Blue," he finds himself saying and finding satisfication in seeing a flustered Lance.  


"Tou ché," Lance says with a smirk and Keith can't help but incorporate the smirk with one of his own. "So, are we getting on this beauty or what?"  


Keith shakes his head at his impatience, handing him the spare helmet and moving to get on the bike.  


"So, Keith," Lance says as Keith starts reversing the bike, only grunting in reply once he was done. "Why the sudden invite for the bike ride?"  


Keith pauses at the question, his gaze shifting to Lance and then to the spare helmet in his hands. He repeats the question to himself again, mentally and is surprise to find no answer to this question. Why _did_ he invite Lance to join him?  


"Ah, I get it," Lance says before he could say anything. "You're finally embracing society and want to start socializing."  


Keith couldn't help but snort in reply to the rediculous statement. "Just get on, Lance," he says, smiling. 

* * *

  


Lance couldn't help the yelp of excitement when he feels the wind in his hair, breezing through the hollows of his clothing and sending tingling sensations through his skin. The adrenaline rush, something he hasn't felt in ages, he didn't think he craved it utill now. The rollercoaster ride he rode with Hunk and Pidge a few months back could never compare to the roaring of the motorbike's engine and warm body sitting in close proximity to him, the sounds of laughter from the rider himself was only an added bonus.  


Lance had been hesitant when Keith started the engine, the vehicle purring in mock as he stood motionless in place with a questioning glance from Keith when he hadn't gotten on the bike. But then he gives Lance an outstretched hand that he, for some reason, can't refuse. All Lance remembers after that was Keith instructing him to 'hold tight' before taking off, if anyone asked, he did not scream in terror when they took off.  


Lance had no idea where to hold on to, at first he had latched on to Keith when the sudden jerk of their take off nearly scared him shitless, after that he opted to hold on to the handle on the back seat but was warned not to by Keith. In the end he ended up awkwardly holding on to Keith's shoulders. If Keith showed any signs of discomfort, Lance hadn't noticed, but his shoulders were kind of stiff.  


A drop of rain falls on his face and he finds himself amused at the sudden weather change that it causes a snort of laughter out of him.  


"So where're we going?" Lance calls over the roar of the engine, loving how the wind whistles against his ears. There is a pause after the question and Lance fears that Keith hadn't heard him, so he braces himself to ask him again when Keith cuts him off to answer.  


"I don't really know," he says, the ends of his hair that always curl up by the collars of his clothes smacking lightly against his face by the wind. Lance finds himself curious on the subject of Keith's hair.  


"I think I know a place," he finds himself saying, Keith blinking up at him and nodding for him to continue. "And it could also be good shelter from this on coming rain."  


For the rest if the ride, Lance had been giving directions to Keith, turning into tricky roads and flying through the highway, avoiding cops and cracking the occasional pun just to spite his driver. They find themselves at what seems to be a scheduled beach, pointy rocks poking out from the sand a few feet from where they stopped, the choppy blue ocean and rolling waves coming and going in a rhythmic pattern. This place wasn't at all like the bustling streets of New York City, probably because the waters here weren't exactly swim-worthy, what with all the rocks and all. But Lance loved it here, this place gave him a peace of mind.  


He found this place the second month after he moved here, he thought it was the perfect place for story inspiration. It was, only for his first book though, now he only comes here when he wanted to clear his mind.  


When Lance finally directs them towards a shed, they are both slightly wet from the drizzle and Lance is having the time of his life. Their soft laughter and small bickering fill the silence of the schedualed place. The rain drops form dark patches of circles on the sand, the numbers increasing until there was a steady downpour amongst them.  


The sudden movement from Keith draws him out of his little musings. He watches as the wind pulls back Keith's mass of black hair, ruffling it gently and tickling the back of his neck. A curious thought strikes him: does Keith tie his hair up? I mean it was lengthy enough to be tied up, how would he look like then?  


"You come here often?" Keith questions, his head tilted slightly upward to meet Lance's gaze.  


He snorts. "Keith, buddy. That sounds like a pick up line," he tells him, finding it amusing to see the tips of his ears go red from embarrassment.  


"Just answer the question," Keith grumbles and Lance finds himself smiling. There is a twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach too, but he chooses to investigate it later when he was alone.  


"I come here whenever I can, whenever there's something on my mind," he says, the curiousity from Keith's eyes doesn't flatter, but he doesn't push for further explaination. "You know, I knew you were an artist, but I've never really seen your work...until today that is," he says, noting the stiffness from Keith that soon follows  


"Drawing is..." there is a pause, and Lance wonders if he was pushing it. "Drawing is too hard sometimes," he exclaims, his brows furrowed and nose scrunched.  


Lance doesn't know why he laughs, maybe it was because of the vagueness of it all, or it might be how relatable Lance finds it to be. Writing was difficult too, no matter how much he loved it.  


"So drawing is hard but...you still do it?" He questions, watching how the waves roll atop each other and flatten out, enjoying the combination of the sea breeze and rain in his face. There are shuffling noises beside him and he turns to see Keith tucking his helmet under his arm and shifting his gaze downwards. "Keith?"  


"Is writing challenging to you?" He asks him, Lance blinks back his surprise.  


"Well, yeah," he replies but Keith's gaze is still downcast. "But I do it cause I love it," Keith's gaze snaps back up to him, but his expression is unreadable.  


"I see," he says as some hair flies into his face, Lance resisting the urge to tuck them behind his ear. 

* * *

  


Keith doesn't bother to clean the mess of papers on the floor when he gets home. Instead, he adds more to the pile by ripping out the papers of his art folio. Piece by piece they glide to the floor, gently and softly, an array of colours and sketches littered across the whole room.  


He was going to start over, he was going to make sure he would put his all into this.  


Because he finally found his missing puzzle piece. 

* * *

  


Lance gets a bit worried when he doesn't see Keith as often anymore, he normally sees the guy up and early in the morning and ready to go for a jog. The hallway seems so empty without their constant bickering and Mr Blue sometimes looks up at him expectantly like it was waiting for something. If Lance didn't know any better, could Keith possibly be avoiding him? Lance isn't sure how that makes him feel.  


When two weeks rolled around and he still (as usual) wasn't getting any work done, he closes his laptop in frustration and decides to actually do something about it. Mr Blue follows his every move, from his pacing to his sudden groans of irritation and to the kitchen to stuff his face full of pistachio ice cream -cause he loves that shit- and to his sulking on the couch. The ice cream eating lasts for about ten minutes before he gets sick of it and tosses the rest of it in the bin.  


He suddenly feels very restless, a mountain of stored up energy waiting to be released. So he decides ' _fuck it_ ' and storms out of the door and down to the near by convenience store. 

* * *

  


"You're place is a mess, Keith. I expected you to be more tidier than this," Shiro had said to him on one of his visits. Keith had simply ignored him, scrutinizing his latest piece with a frown marrying his features, only humming in response to his brother's small lecture.  


He hasn't tidied up at all since he decided to redo his whole art folio. The papers were still scattered about and around the floor, the messy pile only adding up when he was dissatisfied with a piece. He had moved like a robot all this while, waking up, eating breakfast, attending classes, coming home to finish his folio and sneaking a few cups of coffee here and there. It had turned into such a scheduled lifestyle for the past two weeks that he hadn't noticed at all. And then he hears it, that _tone_ his brother uses when he wants to talk about something serious.  


" _Keith_ ," he said, tone soft around the edges and Keith suddenly remembered the drawing of his mother, the drawing that he had so carelessly left about.  


He went stiff, unable to move, scared of his brother's next words. "It doesn't really mean anything," he had said, holding back the mass of emotions threatening to spill.  


And then Shiro is silent, Keith didn't know if he felt relieved or feared for the worst, but all Shiro did was carefully place the drawing beside his working space and ruffled his hair before leaving him alone altogether.  


He was confused, but all he did was take a shakey breath before continuing with his work. Now he is half way through deciding weather or not to burn the piece in front of him or store it away somewhere deep where no one will find it. Then he hears someone knocking on his front door, the sound sounding stiff and hesitant. He leaves the piece at it is and goes to answer the door.  


Lance is by his door, holding up two bags of chips with a sheepish grin on his face, two bags of sour cream and onion chips that is.  


Well, isn't this surprising. 

* * *

  


Lance was not at all prepared for post awake Keith with his hair up in a messy pony-tail, so he feels himself short-circuit a bit before allowing himself to fully function again.  


"Hey...um..." he starts off with thoughts of cursing himself to oblivion for not being able to form coherent sentences.  


"You...want to come in?" Keith offers with a crooked smile, door opened a bit more wider in a welcoming gesture.  


It was then that Lance finally accepted the little crush he seemed to have developed on his neighbour.


	2. It Goes Pitter Patter

"Hey Keith," Keith side eyes him, gaze away from his laptop. "Do you have a plaster?"  


Keith blinks, confused. "I think I have some...why?"  


"Cause I hurt my knee when I fell for you," Lance grins at him causing a hard shove to his side and him landing on the carpeted floor with laughter following in suit.  


Keith lets a breath of laughter escape from his nose, throughly amused at his neighbour's lack of dignity. He then watches how Lance struggles to righten himself back up, oddly reminding him of a pregnant pug.  


Lance had started hanging around his place a lot more often, and as surprising as that may be, Keith couldn't quite find it in himself to dislike the extra company. He remembers questioning him about it one time and the reply he got in return went something along the lines of ' _you're a coffee addict and I worry for your health_ '. And as endering as that may be, Keith just thinks he was procrastinating on his work and very much finds joy in making fun of Keith.  


' _You hardly ate anything at all you adorable idiot. Man, collage work is sucking the life out of ya_ ' was what he had said next when Keith interrogated him about his upcoming book. On another note, Keith thinks that Lance is purposely trying to avoid finishing his next work, cause he always changes the subject whenever Keith brings it up. Keith would liked to have asked, he really did, but the deadline for his folio was coming and he was running out of time.  


Keith has to remind himself that redoing the whole folio was his own idea and that he was going to see it through, but it was too hard sometimes, especially with Lance around. Drawing with someone around never really bothered him, but lately he finds himself nervous drawing around Lance -mainly because most of his past time drawings mostly consist of said writer- and it didn't help how he would have a comment for each drawing he did. Keith remembers cursing loudly the one time when Lance snuck up behind him to glimpse at a piece he was working on, it ended with Lance poking fun at him for being so easily startled.  


"So, when do you need to hand in the folio?" Lance questions him after finally getting up.  


"Tomorrow," he replies as Lance purses his lips in thought.  


"Darn, I was hoping to hang at this new restaurant down the street. They have a pretty good menu set up," Lance sighs, shoulders dropping in defeat.  


He raises a curious brow in Lance's direction, suddenly very attentive. "What do they even have on the menu that's got you so interested?"  


" _Me-n-u_ " he says with a wink as Keith takes awhile to process his answer before aimming a kick at him, which Lance evades swiftly, chiming laughter following him. Keith wasn't blushing, not at all.  


"What's up with all the pick up lines anyway?" Keith snorts, setting his laptop aside and tilting his head up at Lance.  


"Depends, are you done with your homework Keithy?" The mocking tone he uses allows a frown to bloom on Keith's face, arms crossing with narrowed eyes, throughly unamused.  


"It's called an _assignment_. And yes, it's done," he grumbles sliding down in his seat with a sigh. "For now, " he mutters after as Lance hums in thought before languidly taking a seat beside him.  


Keith is aware of the small gap left between them, tries not to think about it, the small gap between Lance and himself.  


"So?" He presses on with slight apprehension, watching how Lance's lips curl into a smile. Then he's catching himself from doing that, making himself pry his gaze away from his guest, his really annoying neighbour.  


"'So' what, Keith?" He smiles teasingly, Keith frowning at the predicament.  


"The pick up lines," Keith says, eyes moving to focused on the screen of his laptop, he closes it shut with a snap and moves to play with the strings of his hoddie.  


"I have literally no idea what you're talking about," Lance says nonchalantly, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. Keith scowls and bats his legs off it.  


"Forget it," Keith sighs, leaning his head back against the sofa to stare at the ceiling.  


The silence that follows was to be expected, but luckily not uncomfortable. Keith allows himself to relax, listening to the creaking sounds of the ceiling fan as it spins in gentle circles. He allows himself to listen to the breathing of the person beside him, calm and steady. Looking up, he sees Lance's eyes closed as well, head leaning back against the sofa like Keith.  


"Hey Keith," Lance starts, making Keith jump slightly at the sudden interruption.  


"Yeah?" He says softly, not knowing why he suddenly feels nervous.  


"Did it hurt?" He questions as Keith furrows his brow in confusion.  


"Did what hurt?"  


"When you fell from heaven, cause you're an angel," a grin makes its way up his face, Keith blinking several times before flushing several shades of red.  


"What. The. Fuck." 

* * *

  


Long eyelashes, too long for a male. Hair long enough to touch his shoulders, curling at the ends and sometimes brushing against his face, the urge to run his fingers through it constantly invades his mind. Eyes dark and mysterious, lighting up like the stars in the night sky whenever he laughs at Lance's jokes.  


Keith Kogane, the guy who used to be a pain in the neck and a nuisance in Lance's life. Keith Kogane, the guy who causes the the flutter in his chest and the butterflies in his stomach. Keith Kogane, the guy who likes sour cream and onion chips and the guy who focuses on a task too much that he forgets to take care of himself. Keith Kogane, his neighbour and kinda friend.  


It had already been a few months since Keith had moved in beside Lance's appartment. A few months of bickering and a few months of absolute confusion leading to the very conclusion of a crush Lance never expected to happen. The conflict in his mind couldn't even begin to compare with the swell of emotions within his chest whenever he was with Keith.  


"Dammit," he exclaims under his breath, leaning back against his chair as he stares at his laptop, the luminous light eerie in the dark room.  


Four chapters of absolute garbage, 20 000 words full of pointless plotline and he still wasn't getting anywhere.  


Maybe he wasn't cut out for this after all... 

* * *

  


"Lance?" Someone calls out to him, he doesn't respond only staring past the condensed water of his iced coke, trying to see if he could tell when the ice was melting. " _Lance_ , are you listening to what I'm saying?" It comes again, this time sounding a little more concerned yet annoyed.  


He lazily glances up to see that Allura was sitting across from him with a worried frown that accompanied the furrow in her brows.  


"What's up hotshot?" He replies lazily, an eyebrow raised in question. Allura narrows her eyes at him, humming in suspicion as she leans back against her seat.  


"Well, you're quiet. You're _never_ quiet," she says as Lance watches a waiter take an order from another table, not really knowing weather to feel flattered that she cared enough to noticed his mood or offended by the way she worded it. "So what's wrong?"  


"Uh..." he says, unsure but then sighs when she raises her brow pointedly as if challenging him. "It's... my neighbour," he gives in to the fear of a fuming Allura.  


"Your neighbour? I didn't know the apartment next to yours accommodated anyone as of late? But anyway, what about this neighbour?" She says, eyes focused.  


"Huh, guess Pidge and Hunk didn't tell you either," he mumbles more to himself than to the person opposite from him. "Anyway, I think I..." he swallows, throat suddenly feeling dry. "I think I like him..." he says noting how different it was to admit it out loud than to chide himself about it internally.  


Allura's eyes widen, then she starts squealing, knocking back her chair in the process as she rounds the table to slap him on the back repeatedly.  


" _Lance_! How dare you kept this from me!" She scolds, then goes back interrogating him. "What's his name? Tell me how you fell for him! Details Lance, details!"  


Lance had forgotten how much strength Allura carried, dreaded it now due to the force she used on slapping him on the back, repeatedly none the less. "A-Allura? Calm down. I'm not going anywhere so you can sit down now...please?" He says cautiously, not wanting to sound rude in front of his scary friend.  


"Oh, pardon me," she grins sheepishly and returns to her seat, looking all to well like a child on Christmas morning. "So!" She starts after clearing her throat. "Might I know the name of this 'he' you're smitten on?"  


"Oh geez," Lance exclaims, suddenly feeling the full force of embarrassment hitting him. "I wouldn't say 'smitten', it's more like a crush," he says, feeling the back of his neck heating up.  


"Same thing, Lance! But continue anyway," she tells him, her smile wide.  


"Wow, ok, geez mom. Anyway, uh...His name is Keith and well--"  


"Hold on a minute!" She abruptly cuts him off, her brows furrowed and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Lance swallows back the feeling of nervousness. "Is-is his full name Keith Kogane?" She questions, surprising him.  


"What the--"  


"Allura?"  


Both their heads snap up to the call of the familiar name. Lo and behold, Shiro in all his glory, looking as intimidating as the day Lance first met him. A thick eyebrow is raised in amusement, as if he's heard their conversation, a crooked smile accompanying it.  


Lance looks to Allura, watching as she eyes the man from head to toe before narrowing her eyes at him.  


"You're late," she tells Shiro with a pout and Shiro laughs. He takes a seat beside her and Lance can't help but look back and forth between the two in utter confusion.  


"I got caught up in somethings," he tells her sheepishly and Allura frowns.  


"You mean work," she states as Shiro clears his throat and looks to Lance. Allura sighs, aimming her attention back towards Lance as well.  


"I'm guessing this is the friend that's like a brother to you?" He asks as Allura nods her head in reply. "Hello Lance, long time no see," he greets as Lance blinks rapidly before nodding in acknowledgement.  


"I am _so_ confused right now," he all but blurts out, his confusion mirroring his expression.  


"I am as well. How do you know of Lance, Shiro?" Allura looks to the man beside her.  


"Oh, well he's Keith's neighbour," he says as Allura nods her head slowly. Lance still didn't know how the two knew each other though, dreaded the sudden idea that popped into his mind.  


"And how about you two? Why do you two know each other? Allura?"  


"You haven't told him?" Shiro seems to tease as Allura flushes, her eyes narrowing at him.  


"Wait--"  


"Yes, Lance. I'm dating. Is that so hard to believe?" She sends a frown at him then shakes her head. "Nevermind about that! Shiro!" Shiro jumps at the call of his name.  


"Y-yes?" He answers and Lance could confirm who the 'man' of their relationship was.  


"Lance just told me something _very_ interesting," her grin was Cheshire Cat like, Lance didn't like it at all. "Apperantly, you're emotionless prick of a brother managed to charm his way into our good friend Lance's heart," she says as Lance wanted oh so badly but to disintegrate on the spot. Way to embarrass him to no ends _Mom_. What if Shiro tells Keith?! Doom of course!  


If Lance didn't know any better, he would think that he was on an episode of some cheesy sitcom. Allura and Shiro would be the embarrassing parents by the way, cause they know no such thing as dignity when it comes to their children. Hunk and Pidge would be his supportive yet annoying friends that would no doubt help him rob a bank if he asked nicely.  


And then there was Keith, the guy who Lance had suspected was a serial killer at one point when he showed Lance his knife collection had he looked so cute when he explained where he got each and every one of them. They'd rob a bank together and hightail out of there and at the end of the season, he and Keith would announce their undenying love for each other and kiss as they watched the sun go down a small mountain peak no one knows the name of.  


He blinks slowly, looking at his drink with a suspicion that he should stop ordering coke. He might be fucking high right now.  


"Interesting," he hears Shiro say, bringing him out of his thoughts and back to reality. At least Shiro gave a normal answer. "Maybe we can hook them up?"  


He spoke too soon. 

* * *

  


"Your place looks like shit," Keith finds himself saying when he steps inside Lance's apartment. Lance is by the door, holding it open and giving Keith a deadpanned look while Mr Blue is soundly asleep in its makeshift bed of blankets and pillows.  


"Is it good shit?" Lance questions him with that crooked smile of his.  


"At least it looks as if someone was living here," he tells him, his mind flashing to his empty apartment with minimum furniture and lack of dinning table. Well, he doesn't have a dinning table cause he really finds no use of it.  


"I like to call it organised mess, if you know what I mean," Lance says as he ushers Keith into the living room, closing the door behind them.  


Keith can't help but scoff. "Whatever floats your boat," he says with a smirk before plopping down on Lance's couch. "So, how's your new book coming along," he questions casually, side eyeing him.  


Lance seems to hesitate a bit before forcing a smile on to his face. "It's great! I'm almost done with it."  


_Liar_ , Keith thinks as he watches Lance plop down beside him. He aims a doubtful look at him, hoping that he would get the message, but then he thinks that he maybe prying too much into Lance's personal life. Maybe Lance would open up himself when he felt more comfortable.  


He leaves it at that, eyes roaming this compact yet comfortable apartment that looked so similar to his yet at the same time does not. The windowsills are decorated with small potted plants, going from bluebells to daisies. Lance was the kind of person to leave the curtains open, he was practically a sunshine child whereas Keith would rather have that curtains left closed. He thinks that Lance's place was cosy, it was pretty in its own unique Lance way.  


"I honestly don't know what I'm doing with my life anymore," it was there, Lance had spoken, only above a whisper.  


Keith stays silent, letting the words sink in as he allows himself to rest his head on Lance's shoulder, a reassuring gesture if you may. Lance seems to tense though, and Keith wonders if he should pull away. But then he relaxes, resting his own head atop Keith's.  


"I may look like I know what I'm doing but...I don't know what I'm doing with my life either," Keith tells him, counting the times when their breaths would mix.  


"Huh..." Lance exclaims a ghost of a smile stretching across his face. Keith watches with fascination, through his eyelashes that Lance had dimples on his cheeks when he smiles. A slow blush creeps up his cheeks when he finally pulls his gaze away.  


"Keith?"  


"Mmm..." he hums in reply, avoiding his gaze and hoping his blush would go down.  


"This is really sweet and all but...I'm hungry."  


Keith couldn't help the snort that escapes him. 

* * *

  


"You are so _gay_ for him. Honestly, I'm proud you finally admitted your darkest desires!" Pidge exclaims, eyes on screen, focused on the game.  


"Nothing new shorty," Keith sneers in her direction, sighing defeatedly when Pidge's character takes his down.  


"Oh Keithy, if I'd known the universe rolled that way then I would've assisted it by introducing the both of you _way_ sooner," she says, reaching for the pizza on the coffee table, but her arms were too short, making her stand to reach it.  


"And since when were you on the universe's side? Last I remember was you screaming bloody murder at it for making you so short," he snorts, reaching for his soda and unlike Pidge, doesn't have to stand to reach it.  


"I have come to terms that the universe was only doing me a favour buy making me short. I'm a hide and seek champion Keith, five years in the running!" She announces with gusto, hands on her hips and all.  


"Pidge?"  


"Yeah?"  


"That's not something to be proud of," he deadpanns and avoids the pizza crust she tosses at him.  


"Will you two please refrain from making a mess?" Came Shiro's voice as he appears from the hallway. "Keith, just because you don't live here anymore doesn't mean I can't make you clean," Shiro says, leaning against the entrance of the hallway with crossed arms.  


Keith can't help the childish instinct in him that tells him to stick his tongue out at his brother.  


Shiro smirks. "You know Keith, I met Lance the other day," Keith scowls at the teasing tone he was using. "He had some pretty interesting things to say about you."  


Keith won't take the bait...he won't.  


"I'm not falling for that, Shiro," he says, turning his attention back to the game.  


"Don't worry Shiro, he'll break," Pidge states, Keith could practically hear the smugness coming out from her.  


"Oh, I know he will," Keith wonders if it was too late to disown his brother. "It's too bad Lance made me swore to secrecy, or we could've witness the look on Keith's face when he finds out that....oh, I've said too much."  


"Shut it, both of you!" Keith exclaims through gritted teeth, brows furrowed and left eye twitching. And then he looks away and clears his throat. "So...what did he say?"  


"Keith, I would _never_ betray Lance's trust," Shiro mock gasps and Keith swears that if Pidge doesn't stop snickering behind his back he'll hide the peanut butter up on a tall shelf.  


"Shouldn't you be accompanying Matt, Pidge?" Keith directs his gaze to Pidge, innocently standing by the coffee table with her hands behind her back.  


"And miss game night with an added bonus of making fun of you? Never. Also, ice cream because Matt is too overprotective for his own good," she grins at him, smile stretching across her face. "Besides, Matt gets all weird whenever his dates don't go well, I swore never to be in the same room as him whenever that happens," she shrugs.  


"I loathe both of you," he sneers.  


"We love you too, Keith." 

* * *

  


"Dude, you seriously need a break from all that writing. Anymore thinking and you'll look like Mega Mind," Hunk says from Lance's kitchen, the smell of melted chocolate filling his nose and making his stomach grumble.  


"You have no idea, buddy. The deadline's close! I have to think of something, _fast_ ," he groans, leaning back against his couch with Mr Blue in his lap. "I'll need a new pair of glasses at this rate..." he mumbles defeatedly as Mr Blue looks up at him curiously.  


"Yeah, no kidding. You stay up late staring at that laptop of yours a lot. Should I get someone to watch out for you when I'm not around? A certain neighbour maybe?" Hunk says form the kitchen, tone teasing. Luckily he was too far away to see the slight blush from Lance, so he snorts in reply to Hunk's suggestion. The big guy actually laughs in return.  


"Come to think of it, I haven't really had the chance to meet this neighbour of yours," Lance doesn't know why he finds satisfication in hearing the word 'yours' when Keith was implied. "I mean, Pidge and Allura already knew him from before. I guess I'm just curious, he seems like an interesting guy," Hunk continues to babble on as Lance either gives one worded replies or grunt at him, half listening.  


"Lance? You okay?" Hunk calls from the kitchen as Lance blinks up at the ceiling.  


"Yeah..." the answer is accompanied by a yawn. "I'm just...thinking," he replies, startled when the doorbell suddenly rings. "I'll get it," he tells Hunk and hops off the couch after Mr Blue.  


"I hope it's Keith," Hunk teases and Lance would've tripped on his own feet if he didn't catch himself on time.  


He kind of hoped for the same too.  


He opens the door to Pidge grinning at him, her smile stretching so wide that it reaches her eyes. She looked awfully a lot like a psychopathic serial killer. Lance could see the sparkle in her eyes, the sparkle that normally spelled the calm before the storm.  


"Pidge, you have the crazy eyes. I don't like the crazy eyes," Lance blurts out, his mind in a frenzy if he would live till tomorrow.  


"Hush now," Pidge shushes him, allowing herself in, towing a large sack of some sort along with her. Lance wonders how her small frame even managed to bring that huge thing up to his apartment in the first place.  


"There better not be any body parts in there Pidge, I'm not going to cover for you when the police come," Lance says, eyeing the large sack wearily.  


"Me neither!" Hunk calls from the kitchen, voice slightly panicked.  


"Chill guys. Well, the junk in here do kinda count as body parts--"  


"What--"  


" _Mechanical_ body parts," two relieved sighs came from Lance and Hunk as Pidge rolls her eyes. "I need you guys to help me with Rover. He is almost complete and I am definitely going to impress that pompous professor of mine." Then, as an after thought. "Oh yeah, Keith'll be joining us later," she says casually, sorting through her stuff as Mr Blue curiously watches.  


"Oh," was all Lance could say as Hunk cheers victoriously.  


_Great_ , he thinks to himself, stiffly moving towards the couch.  


"Oh the pining!" Pidge exclaims and picks Mr Blue up. "Don't you agree?" Mr Blue simply meows in reply.  


"What makes you think I'm pining?!" It was Lance's turn to exclaim, eyes narrowed and pouting at full power.  


"Because I can smell pine trees," she replies simply as Lance gives her an incredulous look.  


"That doesn't even make any sense!"  


" _You_ don't make any sense," Pidge snorts and releases Mr Blue, the cat running off into one of the rooms as Lance groans in defeat. Then there is a knock on the door. "Why doesn't he just use the doorbell?" Pidge grins at Lance, letting the lanky boy hop to his feet and head stiffly over to the door.  


"Shut up you gremlin," he mutters under his breath and reaches for the door handle, opening the door to find himself breathless in a matter of seconds when he comes face to face with Keith.  


"Hey," Keith greets, a small smile in place.  


"Hey," Lance responds, a little out of breath.  


"Hunk! Help! I'm drowning in sexual tension! I'm too young to die in this!" Pidge yells from her spot in the living room, earning herself a hearty laughter from Hunk and two annoyed glares from Lance and Keith. 

* * *

  


There is a tense silence that washes over them, Keith is just there, staring at his brother with a wide yet disbelieving gaze. Shiro is not looking at him, his gaze is casted downwards. He is seated across from Keith, fist clenched and body tense, jaw set tight.  


"Oh," Keith says, bringing his gaze away from Shiro.  


"'Oh'?" Shiro echoes and Keith forces himself not to flinch at his brother's tone. "Is that all you can say, Keith?"  


"Well, what do you want me to say?" He questions, voice heavy.  


"I want you to _react_. I want to know if you're okay. I want--"  


"I'm fine, Shiro," he says sternly, the words 'I'm fine' weighing heavily in the air. "Honestly? This isn't anything new. I _expected_ it," he says, words void of anything.  


" _Keith_ \--"  


"Don't beat yourself up about it Shiro. Things happen, whether intentionally or not."  


A defeated sigh. "Fine. But just know that if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I'm here," Shiro tells him, expression a mixture of pain and determination.  


"Okay." 

* * *

  


Keith is drawing again, he draws with whatever he has on hand. Currently it's an unused napkin and a black pen that's ink is almost dried up. The college's canteen is packed with people, he didn't like that, hated it in fact. He doesn't bother with the people who try and interact with him, he ignores them all together, the buzz of the rowdy canteen and the banter of a group of girls who can't seem to stop giggling.  


The drawing he does is sketchy, uneven lines thanks to the rough surface of the napkin. He studies the half finished drawing of the women who had missed out on most of his life, the women who had always failed to be there when he really needed her, the women who just left...  


Keith stuffs the rest of his sandwich into his mouth, gets up from his seat with a clatter to the chair that falls to the ground from his sudden movement. He doesn't bother with placing it upright and heads straight towards the trashcan to toss the napkin away. He was tired now, too tired to deal with emotions. 

* * *

  


Lance finds that Keith has a peculiar liking to when he runs his fingers through his hair. He is especially pleased when Keith sighs in contempt whenever he massages a particular spot on his neck, the spot where the ends of his hair reach his shoulders. He loves how Keith is so relaxed right now, looks as if he could melt into the couch at any given moment, and it was all Lance's doing.  


"Stressed lately?" He questions out of concern as Keith scrunches his nose up in a sneer and Lance swears it was the most adorable thing ever.  


"Maybe," Keith replies as he shifts his head slightly on Lance's lap.  


"Maybe?" He echoes softly and Keith sighs.  


"Finals are coming up," he mumbles and Lance nods in understanding.  


"It's been awhile since I've dealt with something like Finals," Lance admits, watching as Keith cracks an eye open to meet his gaze, his purple irises still reminding him of the night sky.  


"Well, you're doing something you like now right? Then that shouldn't be a problem," he says quietly and Lance couldn't help but stare at him. Keith breaks eye contact immediatly, the tips of his ears going red.  


"You deal with finals, I'll deal with my book. The book that will most probably be the end for me..." he trails of and laughs weakly, studying how Keith's eyebrows furrow with concern.  


Keith sits up, Lance immediatly missing the warmth that leaves him. "Lance...?"  


There is his gaze, soft and mind numbing. Lance wanted that for himself, he _needed_ it, as selfish as that may sound.  


He wished his mind wasn't so muddled now, or he would have kissed his neighbour till he was over the edge. 

* * *

Keith was exhausted, he was _already_ exhausted before Shiro came by his front door. Shiro has an unreadable expression on his face, jaw tight and gaze aflame with determination, also a hint of...fear? Keith didn't think that Shiro's arrival was a good sign, not like before, especially not now when he has _something_ neatly wrapped in his grasp.  


Keith's first instict was to slam the door in his brother's face, but he doesn't do it in fear of Shiro actually breaking it down to get in, the cost to fix it will be a pain in the neck. So he leaves it open, the hand on the doorknob squeezing so hard he might as well have dented it by now. He eyes the man suspiciously, eyes roaming to the _something_ grasped tightly in his hold.  


"What do you want?" Was his instinctive defense line, a line in which Shiro was very familiar with.  


"The least you could do is let me in first, Keith," Shiro replies, visibly approaching this cautiously. "We don't want to be disturbing any neighbours when you lose your temper," Keith knows what he's doing, and he was right. But he couldn't quite help himself when he looks towards Lance's front door.  


"Fine," he says albeit a little too forcefully and lets him through, Shiro sends him a defeated smile and Keith doesn't know what to think of it. "I don't really want to talk about it if you've noticed," he mumbles, not really caring if Shiro heard him clearly or not.  


"Then don't talk," Shiro states, handing over the packaged item, Keith staring at it with a bitter taste in his mouth.  


He reaches for it, surprised at how shaky his hands were when he does. He grasps it as tightly as how Shiro has his jaw clenched, staring intently at it before taking a shaky breath and tearing it open. It wasn't at all what he expected, he expected an old photo frame, faded colours and visible cracks on the side with a picture of a hazy past, not his old sketches of his mother neatly arranged in a plastic file.  


Shiro is scruntinizing him carefully, staring silently as Keith looks through each drawing with utmost care. His middle school drawings of his mother, not a single piece of paper folded or out of place.  


He looks up to Shiro, swallowing before he speaks. "How...?" His voice is horse, he notes as Shiro's expression softens.  


"Remember the horrible fight we had when you were in tenth grade?" Shiro questions, Keith nodding in response. He remembered it alright. "I dug it out of the trash immediately after you left. I um...thought you might regret it one day but you never did went to look for it," he says and Keith stays silent.  


"Visit her okay?" He says one last time before squeezing a shoulder and retreating to the door. The click of the door resounding heavily around the empty apartment.  


Keith leaves the bunch of papers on the coffee table, heading towards his room and locking himself up for the rest of the day, not even bothering with lunch or dinner. 

* * *

  


Keith meets Hunk at a Starbucks a few blocks away from his college. It was an awkward encounter... for Keith that is, Hunk just straight on grinned and welcomed him. _Right_ , he thinks to himself, Hunk was working part time there.  


"Hey, Keith. We met at Lance's, if you can recall," he says, friendly smile and all.  


"Yeah...uh, Hunk was it?" He asks for confirmation because he didn't want to seem like a fool in front of Lance's best friend.  


"Yup, that's my name. So what would you like to drink?" It suddenly occurred to Keith that he was here on a mission.  


"Please give me your strongest coffee," he says quickly, expression straight and serious as Hunk only stares and blink in his direction.  


"Grande?" He questions and Keith nods in confirmation. Then he realizes that he may have weirded Hunk out and mentally chides himself for it as he finds himself a nice corner to wait for his drink.  


Keith digs out a sketch book from his bag, the specific sketch book that has a specific project that he has been working on. He swears to god that if anyone else saw this he would die of embarrassment, but it was going to be a gift anyway, so he better be prepared by then. His name is being called by then and Keith realizes that he never told Hunk what to name to write on his order. He was grateful that Hunk had the common sense to write his actual name and not made up names like how Lance would actually pull off.  


Hunk isn't by the counter anymore when he goes to get his order, so he simply retrieves the steaming beverage and retreats to the corner of the shop to continue on his little project. A few minutes into his drawing and his coffee has already been reduced to a quarter of the cup left, he was almost done with this project, he hoped that it actually turns out good. Hunk turns up then, pulling a chair out and sitting across from Keith as all he could do was watch.  


"Um..." he says unsurely at first, eyes darting to his sketch book in sudden nervousness, or was it uneasiness? "Hey...again," he says, mumbling the last line to himself as he fiddles with the pencil in his grip.  


Hunk smiles, but then again, he has been smiling since Keith met him at Lance's place. "Me again. I'm on my break now, mind if I join you?"  


"Sure," he says, pencil hovering above the paper.  


"I'm not interrupting your alone time am I?" He questions yet again just to make sure as Keith puts his pencil down.  


"I really don't mind," he replies.  


"Cool," Hunk says as they laps into silence, the awkward tension making Keith as stiff as his first time on stage back in grade school. "...mind if I ask a few questions?" Hunk suddenly quiries as Keith's gaze darts to him. "I mean, you can draw while you listen, I really don't mind."  


Keith nods in appreciation, reaching for his pencil and focusing his attention back on his little project.  


"What do you think of Lance?" He questions this when Keith is drinking his coffee, he chokes and starts heckling as Hunk quickly passes him some napkins. "Sorry, was that to straight forward?"  


"Kinda," Keith replies when he finally recovers from the surprise attack. "Why do you want to know how I think of him anyway?"  


"Well--" he says, suddenly looking a bit sheepish. "You seem to like him. And yes, I meant that kind of like. But I didn't want to sound rude so--"  


"Hold it," he stops him, hoping that his blush wouldn't show. "Did Pidge tell you this?"  


"What? Oh, no. She didn't. I uh...I mean you guys are pretty obvious, so..."  


Pretty obvious? Keith didn't think his blush could get any worse. "O-obvious about what exactly?" He says as he tries to hide himself in his overly large hoddie.  


"You know..." he trails off, looking a bit troubled. "...your feelings?"  


"W-what...? For each other?" There was the voice crack, and Hunk suddenly looks very amused.  


"Yeah," he says, smile widening. "I don't see you denying it straight of the bat. I take that as a good sign?"  


Keith makes a strangled sound at the back of his throat. He never thought that Hunk would be the one backing him into a corner. He really was a friend of Lance and Pidge, birds of a feather flock together alright.  


"Just..." he says, looking quite defeated and flustered, then an idea is suddenly in his mind. "...could you do me a favour?" 

* * *

  


Lance is deleting all his files, chapters of his next book disappearing one by one with just a click of a button. His brows are furrowed, jaw clenched and head throbbing violently behind his eyelids. When the last chapter is deleted, he all but slams the laptop close, startling Mr Blue.  


He gets up to pace the room, repeatedly staring at his phone to see if he should make the call and just tell Coran that he could't make the deadline. A lingering thought in his mind tells him to inform Coran about his quitting as well. Because continuing this would only hurt him.  


' _The world of writing is not meant for everyone_ ', that was what he was told countless of times when he was still living with his family. He was a big dreamer though, he told them to look out for his books, to buy each and every copy of them. What about now? He didn't think facing them would be any better, that would actually make things worse. But he could be comforted by them, with warm hugs and hot soup. The only problem would be the unspoken sentence hanging in the air:  


I told you so... 

* * *

  


Keith runs into Lance at the lobby of their appartment, he was sorting through mail, head hung low with his hoodie up. He walks over to him and taps him on the shoulder, Lance turns his head over to him, looking startled. He has earphones on, Keith notes as he raises his hand in greeting, Lance smiling and removing the earphones.  


"Hey man," he greets, eyes crinkling at the corners, Keith smiles in return.  


"Looking through mail?" He questions for the sake of a light conversation, a little curious of the contents the bundle of envelopes contained.  


"That obvious?" He seems to tease as Keith turns to look away in embarrassment. He grumbles incoherently, only to widen the teasing smile Lance currently supported. "Mind if I join you on your jog?" He questions hopefully after noting the get up Keith normally wore for his daily jogs.  


"Only if you can keep up," Keith challenges, a smirk making its way up. Lance seemed up for the challenge though, the determination in his eyes only further proved his point.  


"Baby, these legs aren't only meant for show," he taunts and Keith might or might not have agreed to that statement when his eyes roamed downwards and snapped back up again.  


"We'll see," he mocks as Lance lightly shoves him away, the grin on his face betraying his actions.  


Keith waits as Lance returns to his appartment to store the letters, waits some more as Lance tells him that he was being held up by a hungry Mr Blue before coming down to meet Keith at the lobby. They greet Shay at the counter on their way out, Shay warning them to be careful on their jog and telling them to have fun. Keith is greatful for the nicer landlady, way better than the previous landlord where Shiro lived, that damned Sendek.  


They make it to the park five minutes longer than when Keith was alone and he blamed it on the constant shoving and bickering that Lance had started, as usual. It's Keith who takes off first, and it's Lance who yells at him from behind at how unfair that is. Lance catches up with him in a few heartbeats anyway, and Keith is already slightly peeved at the small disadvantage Lance's long legs provided him.  


Calling it a jog wouldn't sound right, not after the jog turned into an all out race to beat the other. Several other park goers couldn't seem to bring themselves to care enough, either that or Keith couldn't really gauge their reactions properly from the way he's trying to keep Lance from running pass him.  


They're a little ways off the trail Keith likes to stick to when he jogs alone. Both of them are tired and sweaty, hungry even considering the fact that Keith's stomach chooses the right time to demand a proper breakfast instead of the energy bar he munched on earlier. But he really couldn't care, embarrassed or not he really didn't care, not with the way Lance is looking at him, not with the way his grin reaches his eyes and at the same time pull on Keith's heart strings.  


"I win," Keith announces and he laughs, laughs because he can forget about his up coming finals and what comes after that, laughs because he can forget about his family problems and Shiro's constant concern about him, and most importantly he laughs because his heart has never felt so full. 

* * *

  


' _Fuck_ ' Lance thinks. " _I'm so screwed_."  


Because when had things ever gone the way he wanted them to? 

* * *

  


"Hunk," he starts off shakey and hesitant. Hunk looks at him patiently as if saying 'take your time, I'm here for you' like he wasn't already the best human being on earth and Lance is just so glad to have a friend like him. "I think I've fallen... _hard_ " he admits bashfully but at the same time not regretting it.  


Hunk simply nods, the smile on his face showing just the right amount of support he needs. "I don't want to lose him," he says a little more firmly. "What do I do?"  


"Well," Hunk says as he magically pulls out a paper bag with a Starbucks logo on it. "I was going to give this to you earlier but I wanted to confirm something first. So here, I hope you find your answer with this," he says and Lance could really only stare at him, dumbfounded.  


"Uh, Hunk? Now's not really the time for coffee. But even if it is, you did remember the extra cream in mine, right?" Hunk gives him a deadpan stare. " _Right_ , I'll just take that away from you now thank you," he says as he retrieves the bag, noting how significantly lighter it is than what he expected.  


Okay, so it obviously isn't coffee. He looks into the bag, a sketch book is inside and he has to do a double take to confirm what laid in front of his eyes. Gingerly he reaches for it and pulls it out, the front is a black hardcover with golden words engraved in it, ' _freedom_ it read' and Lance wanted to laugh at how it was very un-Keith-like to choose something like this. But then maybe he chose it with thoughts of Lance on his mind, that thought alone makes his heart hammer in his chest.  


' _This whole book's existence is an embarrassment enough but here goes anyway_ ' is what is written on the first page and Lance can't help the smile on his face after reading it. He flips to the second page, where it's him staring intently at his laptop and he thinks that Keith (that little sneak) was sketching this instead of doing his folio like he said. The next page was of him and Mr Blue chilling and watching TV then the next was a scenery of the grocery store where they first met, on and on the pages went until he reached the end where there was a sketch of his favourite drink from Starbucks ' _courtesy of Hunk_ it says.  


Lance snorts when he closes the sketch book and now it's just Hunk and him in his small yet tolerable appartment with Mr Blue snoring away on its makeshift bed.  


"That was so cheesy of him," he admits to Hunk as Hunk rolls his eyes at him.  


"I don't see you complaining," Hunk replies. "He actually wanted me to give it to you just like that, but I told him to at least wrap it up or something," he gestures to the paper bag. "That's the 'something'."  


Lance felt light, like he could do anything at the moment. "Thanks for this bud, I think I know what I have to do now." 

* * *

  


They haven't seen each other for at least a month now...was it a month? Keith couldn't really tell, his brain hurt too much from all the studying. The whether is significantly colder now and Keith hated how less of a help that provided his sleep deprived mind. Finals were finally over, then next came graduation, what came after that was still a wonder to him.  


Keith tries to look back on his life, thinks about it for hours on end but still comes to the conclusion that he would still end up being like this anyway, confused and a mess.  


He tells people that Shiro was his brother but in reality he was just a family friend that took him in when his mother left him for work, the work that she loved too much to even remember she had a son to take care of. She left him with the Shiroganes when he was twelve and twelve years later she still hadn't came back for him. He didn't think she ever will, not when she was in a coma. 

* * *

  


"KEEEEEEEEEFFFFFF--" what comes after is loud banging noises from his front door and Keith is just _tired_ and he just wants _sleep_. But the banging noises just won't cease, even when he tosses and turns in bed, trying to shield off the sound with his pillow.  


"Fuck it!" He growls and stomps out of his room, bedhead and still in his sleepwear. He yanks open the front door, the hinges squeaking in protest of his rough treatment. "What the hell do you want so early in the morning, Lance?!" He yells/whispers as not to disturb the other neighbours, because he was civilized, unlike a certain other neighbour of his.  


"I got your gift from Hunk," he says abruptly and Keith thinks ' _oh_ ' as the sudden surprise leaves him flustered in a matter of a few seconds. He finally sees the bags under Lance's eyes, and oh gods he still had reading glasses on and tussled hair and this was just too much for Keith so early in the morning-- "I'm done with my book. I want you to be the first to read the manuscript, the _first_. I haven't even contacted my editor yet," he says without missing a beat and Keith could only stare.  


"Is this why you disappeared for like...a month?" He finds himself asking instinctively as Lance purses his lips in thought.  


"Are you...mad?" Lance questions, sheepish and Keith thinks he has no right to be, so he gives Lance a deadpan stare.  


"Just get in before you catch a cold," he mutters and allows him in, not missing the discrete smile that overcomes Lance. "So, what's this about?" he starts, Lance's eyes lighting up in excitement.  


"You don't have any classes today right?"  


Keith quirks an eyebrow. "Lance, it's a Saturday. Also, my finals are over, I'm just waiting for my results."  


Lance scrunches his eyebrows in thought, and Keith can't help but find that endering. "I must be really out of it...I thought it was a Wednesday today," he mumbles to himself as Keith snorts in amusement.  


"I should know, looked yourself in a mirror yet, bedhead?" He teases, Lance blushing and narrowing his eyes.  


"Your mullet doesn't look any better you know," he retaliates and Keith can't help but roll his eyes.  


"So, your manuscript?" He questions, plopping down on his couch, Lance sliding over to him, their hips bumping, Keith blushing while he laughs. Funny how they went from screaming at each other's heads a few months back to this.  


They spend the whole morning like that, side by side as Keith tries to focus on the story instead of the hot breath against his neck as Lance reads over his shoulder. At some point it becomes unbearable for Keith as he has to try slowing his heart rate down (biologically impossible but still) and hoped that Lance couldn't see the blush crawling up his neck. He wished that he had brushed his teeth before opening the door, wished that he at least combed his hair.  


Lance laughs at a particular part of the story and Keith makes the mistake of turning towards him. His breath hitches when their noses brush against each other and Keith wonders if Lance is having problems coming into terms with the situations as well. Lance is as still as Keith, neither moving or breathing as well.  


If Keith wanted to, he could close the gap. The few inches left between them, a hairs breath, just like that.  


Lance's ringtone goes off and Keith wanted to laugh when Lance groans in dissapointment and answers the phone with a vicious hiss.  


"We were having a moment damnit!" Keith hears him grumble. Lance argues some more with the person on the line and all Keith could do was stare at him in silence, an amused smile playing at his lips.  


"So!" Lance starts, then clearing his throat. "What do you think of it so far?"  


It takes Keith awhile to realize that Lance was talking about his manuscript, then he's stumbling for an answer when Lance drops beside him and gives him a side smirk.  


"Cat got your tongue, Keithy?" He was saying when he slid over to where Keith sat, their thighs pressing and Keith wondering if he'll spontaneously combust on the spot. Does Lance know no such thing as personal space?  


He pushes Lance's face from his own, facing his head away from him. "The book was great," he says, voice cracking, a little ways to hysteria. 

* * *

  


Room 208, that was where his mother was, that was the room number that nurse at the counter gave him. Keith didn't think that he would end up here alone, he really didn't think it was a good idea either. He felt sick to the stomach just thinking about it, nausea seeping into his very core.  


The hallways of the hospital had never seemed so confining, each step he took felt like he was dragging in cement. He tries to look indifferent, but the many nurses passing by him in the hallway were giving him so many concerned looks that he didn't think it was working. He treads on anyway, twisting and turning through the hospital's hallways felt like he was walking through the Labyrinth. The nurse's instructions he plays in his head like a mantra, following the directions she pointed out.  


Then, Keith is standing outside his mother's hospital room in seconds, staring directly at the number plate on the door with the flora decor on it, staring back at him in mock. He was trembling, but he doesn't notice it until he brings a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. Now he's staring at his hand, shaking, he clenches it tight and pushes open the door. 

* * *

  


"Keith?" Lance is surprised when he finds Keith at his door, head hung low with hair covering his eyes. His fist are clenched, shaking when Lance reaches out to grab them. His fingers were cold to the touch, almost as if he were touching ice, Lance holds on to them, holds on to Keith's hands as he drags him into his house.  


Mr Blue gazes up at them curiously as Lance settles Keith gently on his couch and start rubbing Keith's hands with his own and blowing on them to warm them up. Keith is still silent and Lance is concerned, he wonders why Keith was out so late at night in this cold weather with nothing on but a thick hoodie and jeans. Lance couldn't really identify the expression Keith had on either, not with the way his hair covered his eyes.  


"Keith? Dude, you okay?" He asks as Keith finally snaps out of whatever stupor he was in and blinks up owlish at Lance.  


"I um..." he starts off slowly, hands closing around Lance's and squeezing tightly. "...I went to visit my mom...my real mom...and--" his voice cracks a little and Lance was afraid that he might actually cry.  


"You don't have to force it Keith. Take your time, take all the time you need," Lance tells him, hoping that his words were enough to hold Keith up. " _Breath_ Keith."  


Keith takes a deep shakey breath. "She's a wildlife photographer, she loves her job...a lot, too much even," Keith says, Lance's expression softening at the vulnerability.  


"I'm listening," Lance tells him, pulling him closer and letting his slightly warmer hands rest on his thigh.  


"...she uh, she tends to forget sometimes, forget that she has a son to take care of," another shakey breath. "My dad took care of me in her absence, spent a lot of time with the Shiroganes as well. They were really nice people."  


If anyone asked, Lance never found this conversation unexpected at all, he was almost relieved that Keith even decided to share.  


"So what happened?" He questions as Keith tenses slightly.  


"Accidents happened," he says quietly, so quiet that made Lance almost think it was the wind.  


He doesn't push for further detail, he just lets Keith bury his face in between his neck and shoulder. They sit there for awhile, the silence enveloping them, Lance listening to the soft breathing against his neck and watching Mr Blue stretch and curl up against his leg. Seconds turned to minutes and Lance wonders if Keith had fallen asleep.  


He was heartbroken when he found Keith outside his door, half freezing and so very confused. Keith had done so much for him, he showed Lance that there was more to the black and white world he had grown so accustomed to, he reintroduced him to the vibrant colours he thought he could no longer see again. Lance loved him for that, as scary as it is to admit it, he loved Keith.  


For awhile, Lance counts the soft breathing of Keith, bringing a hand up to gently comb through Keith's unkempt hair. His hair is soft to the touch, albeit a little rough at the roots, but Lance loved it anyway. He will never admit this to Keith, but he secretly liked his mullet, it was just so Keith that he couldn't help but love it anyway. He lets them stay in that position, the tiredness from the day catching up with him and making his eye lids feel heavy.  


He ends up falling asleep with Keith between his arms. 

* * *

  


The next morning Lance could feel pins and needles prickling at his left arm, it feels numb and he is positively sure that the blood flow there has stopped. A weight shifts at his left side and he flinches from the pain but doesn't pull away, knowing full well who the weight belonged to.  


Keith groans beside him, shifting his position and turning to face him. Lance is suddenly hit with want, loving the way Keith has his brows slightly furrowed when he was asleep and the way his hair is sticking out at places and curling at the ends.  


His hand moves on its own accord, moving to Keith's cheek and pausing slightly when his breath hitches. His hand moves towards his lips when Keith's breathing returns to normal, his index finger pushing slightly against Keith's bottom lip. He lets out a soft laugh when Keith furrows his brows even further, Keith moaning softly and finally stirring awake.  


"Morning sleepy head," he greets as Keith narrows his eyes at him, the drowsiness still evident in his features.  


"Lance?" He says, voice hoarse from sleep and Lance finds that extremely adorable.  


"The one and only," he grins as Keith releases a soft chuckle.  


"I don't feel like getting up," he admits as Lance moves to tuck a stray hair behind his ear.  


"Neither do I," he replies, admiring the way Keith's purple irises sparkle with mirth.  


A sudden dawning comes upon Keith then. "Oh yeah, my graduation's today," he says all to calmly.  


"Gradua--And why haven't I heard of this?!" Lance yelps in horror, watching in amusement as a pout slowly forms of Keith's face.  


"I didn't want to make it a big deal. Besides, I never planned on going anyway," he grumbles and Lance couldn't help but roll his eyes.  


"Does Shiro know?" He questions as Keith purses his lips, the look of obvious guilt. "Well ain't that swell," Lance says, Keith snorting at his reply.  


"He'll call, sooner or later, eiher that or he'll come banging at my door. Too bad no one will answer it for him," he says with a little excitment this time, grin almost evil. "Let me hide out at your place until that happens, please."  


"Damnit Keith, stop being so freakin' adorable, it's making me want to kiss you," Lance groans and buries his face into Keith's chest.  


There is a pause and Lance swears he wasn't the only one with an erratically beating heart right now.  


He brings his face back up, to see a flustered Keith trying to avoid eye contact with him. As amusing as that might seem, Lance _knows_ that he was in the same state, except less panicky and more calm.  


"Do you...want to?" He questions, slightly hesitant.  


Keith meets him head on this time, the fierce blush still present but he was more determined. "Yes," he replies, almost out of breath, Lance muses.  


The gap between them is closed almost immediatly, Keith moving so that he was on top of Lance. A hand finds itself at the back of Keith's neck while the other hand finds itself at Keith's waist, an arm wrapping around him to pull him closer. Their legs are tangled, long limbs intertwining with each other, Keith making the sweetest of moaning sounds.  


"Impatient aren't we," Lance finds himself saying in between kisses.  


"Shut up," Keith mumbles quietly, giving a chance for Lance to push him against the cushions.  


Cold fingers are suddenly touching him from the base of his shirt, sending the most delicious shivers down his spine. He pushes Keith harder against the cushions, grinning when he earns yet another moan from him.  


"No can do Mullet, you signed up for this he pants as Keith pulls him downwards to continue his assaults on Lance's lips, Lance gladly obliges. 

* * *

"Your book is a hit," Keith tells him when they pass by a book store, side by side with Lance. The display window has piles and piles of the new book up in display, the glass panel fogging up a bit due to the rainfall.  


The transparent umbrella that shields them from the rain belongs to Lance, since Keith didn't really own an umbrella. Keith watches through the glass panel how a girl their age purchases Lance's book, a grin so wide it could almost cut across her face. He was proud of Lance, proud of what he had managed to accomplish.  


"I'm as shocked as you are, never thought sales would be this good," he mutters softly, smile widening when he spots a few more customers lining up to buy his book. Keith gives his hand a soft squeeze, Lance looking back at him with a soft gaze.  


They walk on down the sidewalk, cars passing by them and off to their desired destination. The silent hum of the rain along with Lance's breathing puts Keith at ease, his muscles relaxing complete as he feels himself let his guard down. This could happen with Lance, it always has and Keith never found the answer as to why either.  


The pitter patter of the rain against the umbrella creates a sort of melody against Keith's ears. Keith could tell that Lance felt the same way as well, as his smile never flattered. The road is covered in puddles, ' _practically begging to be stepped on_ ', as said in Lance's words as Keith could only reply with a ' _I don't want to get my shoes wet_ ', earning himself a teasing smile from Lance.  


"You know, I've never been this nervous before," Lance tells him sheepishly as they pass by a flower shop and he pauses. "Should I get her flowers? I feel as I should get her flowers," he says as Keith rolls his eyes, letting Lance look around the shop and reappear with a bouquet of daisies.  


"You're ridiculous, Lance. She's not going to judge you if you don't bring anything for her," Keith snorts and Lance pouts at the comment.  


"Maybe You could have said that before I bought the flowers?" Lance grumbles, Keith smiling at his childish replies. "I already bought it anyway," he says and tugs on Keith's hand to get going.  


Keith chooses not to tell Lance that his mother doesn't really like flowers and instead prefers something to munch on instead, something about how horrible hospital food is.  


"You'll do great Lance, she'll love you," he smiles reassuringly, hoping to comfort the panicking man.  


"Me? Afraid? _Never_ ," he tells him with a wink, making Keith smirk at the claim.  


"You dork," Keith snorts.  


"I'm your dork, Mullet," he remarks, smile wide like Keith was his everything.  


Happy, Keith never thought that word ever meant well. It was a word that was learnt in kindergarten, an emotion one felt when one was overjoyed. Keith disliked that word, never thought it truely described the feeling of joy. He was never truely happy, not when he won the drawing competition in sixth grade and not when he received praises from his superiors.  


That was all before he met Lance though, Lance showed him so much, Lance showed him 'freedom'. He showed Keith that there was more to just textbook based art, showed Keith that his missing puzzle piece was always just right in front of him. Lance showed him what it means to truely be happy, he showed him what it means to love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't season 6 an emotional rollercoaster? I cried...the brogane fight was SO good.
> 
> Anyway, this is was on a whim and it is extremely cliche and kind of embarrassing, but some of you read it, and that makes me happy :)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if I should feel embarrassed or delighted in finally finishing this first part.


End file.
